The Fire In My Heart
by 4497E
Summary: A girl meets some people who turn out to be werewolves. As she begins  to fall for a boy from the pack, many people are being attacked by wolves. She  begins to doubt his truth, and just when she decides to forget about him is  when she needs him most.


**The Fire In My Heart  
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**Chapter 1: Cass**

The cold winter air bit at my exposed ears as I sat on my porch stairs overlooking the frozen lake behind my dad's house. The wind blew the fluffy snow that had settled on the ice in a big misty cloud of -10 degrees. I pulled my scarf up over my nose which by now must resemble something close to Rudolph. I blinked a few times, the icy Michigan air drying my eyes. I tapped the tips of my winter boots on the slick brown stairs, creating a beat that went along with the whooshing of the wind. It blew my light brown hair into my eyes and somehow managed to sneak in under the scarf, sticking to my lips. I pulled my fingerless gloves up and snagged then out of my face. Any person who would decide to drive by would think I was some sort of mafia member with my bright red scarf and burning scarlet eyes. They were so dried out from the freezing air that it actually hurt to blink. I rubbed them and huffed. The white birch trees are skeletons overlooking our navy lake house. I've always loved those trees ever since I was a little kid and used to visit my dad every fall. My parents are divorced, my mom living in New York and my dad living here. My mom remarried and had three other kids, one is nine now, another seven, and the youngest at five. Having three little kids living with a seventeen-year-old just didn't really sound so appealing to me, especially when I end up stepping on those awful Legos and end up wailing like a dying cat. So, I finally asked to stay with my dad, out here in Michigan. The winters are brutally cold and most people migrate like geese to a warmer area, but my father and I are alike in two ways. The first is that we aren't talkers, staying quiet and keeping to ourselves, but the second is the fact that we come alive in winter. The air is so much crisper and there's hardly any activities going on in our town that we feel a need to go to, like in the summer. He leaves me be, and even though we have about a twenty yard distance between us, I still feel like we're spending time together.

He sits in the dining room reading the weekly newspaper for the third time. He sips his mug of tea slowly and hardly recognizes the fact that I step inside until the gust of cold air wafts toward him. I take off my scarf and gloves, kicking off my shoes on the soaked mat.

"How is it out there?" Paul asks.

I shrug, tip-toeing to avoid the puddle of slush from my boots. "Cold, pleasant, quiet."

Paul inhales deeply and nods, going back to his newspaper. I run some hot water over my frozen nimble fingers, letting the steam saturate my arid blue eyes. I look up into the bathroom mirror and notice how pink my nose is. With a laugh, I scrunch my almost-immobile facial muscles a few times, returning life to my winter-succumbed face. My wavy hair looks like a lion's mane after a wrestling match. I run my fingers through it and pad up to my bedroom.

I flick on my light switch, illuminating my strings of Christmas lights that stay up year-round. I've long taken the light bulb out of my ceiling light and let the strings of little dots that criss-cross my brown room be the only thing illuminating it. The sun reflects off the snow out my window that sits on the roof, casting a blueish light to my brown walls. I quickly change from my winter clothes to my comfy sweats as I tackle my math homework.

After about twenty minutes of brain racking algebra, my phone vibrates on my side table with a bzzt! bzzt! bzzt! I quickly snatch and answer the call from my best friend, Ren.

"Did you hear?" are her first words before I can even say hello.

"Um, no. Hear what?"

I can hear her exasperated sigh, no doubt she's already told the same thing about five times. She's very impatient with the fact that I'm not on any social networking sites like Facebook or MySpace. "Joey Fetts, he was attacked by wolves in the woods."

"Joey?" I ask, surprised. "But there haven't been any wolf attacks in about twenty years, what happened?"

"I don't know, I just heard it from Lisa who heard it from Joey's girlfriend, who is in the hospital with him right now. It's pretty serious Cass, they tore up his leg and he has cuts all on his back and I even heard one was close to his jugular. I'm just warning you, Cassie, no more star gazing or whatever it is you do in those woods. It's not safe anymore with those rabid wolves all insane and crap."

I sigh. "Thanks for the update."

"No problem, I figured I should tell the person who doesn't have any contact with people besides at school, and can you imagine how embarrassing it would be to find out at school?"

I roll my eyes. "No, wouldn't _that_ be embarrassing?" I fake interest.

"Yeah it would. Aren't you glad you have a friend like me who has connections with the outside world?"

"Yep. So glad. Bye Ren, see you tomorrow. I'm picking you up at seven-fifteen; I want some extra time to drive slowly with the ice and all."

"Aw, precious cargo! Bye, bye missy!"

Once I finally finish my laborious homework, I click on the TV and watch the news. A woman with a fake reporter name informs me that Joey Fetts is slowly healing and that the doctors say he will be alright. The wolves are being observed for any sign of behavior as to why they would attack an innocent boy who claims he was simply going for a run to prepare for his track try-outs.

Paul joins me on the couch. "You know that kid?" he points to the picture of Joey on the screen with his fork as he eats Ramen Noodles.

"Yeah, I have history with him, and I think he's in my English class too."

"His parents are real friendly, Robyn and Dean Fetts. They came in the other day for ice-fishing supplies, like they do every year." Paul runs a bait shop, where there are so many type of fish and fishing lures that your eyes go sore just by looking at them.

"Yeah, Joey's a good kid. Great runner." Paul grunts and I give him the remote. "I'm going to go over to the library, and maybe go shopping a little. Do you want anything?" Paul shakes his head and grunts again: the language of father and daughter.

I hop in my old Chevy truck and turn it on with a rumble. Snow flies from the back tires as I pull out onto the slushie street. All roads in my small town are single-laned, so traffic should be a problem. But most people in my small town of Big Bay (population 267) are either at home or at the library, which is the hangout for teens my age. Our library is oddly big for our small town, and it sticks out like a bright red pimple on a tween's face. Two stories high and on the top of a hill, the library sits right before a forest of dead trees. I pull my truck in my secret parking space which is meant for employees only, but they hardly ever check.

The revolving doors to the library were often part of my enjoyment when I was little, before I stopped listening to audiobooks. Now my eyes scan the titles fervidly, running a finger along the spines. I snatch up an armful and find an empty table to sit at. I flip the books over and read the back. I have a system whenever I come here, three piles. A yes pile, a no pile, and a Paul pile. He enjoys reading like I do. I can't help but feel little pinpricks on my back, like somebody is staring at me. I look over my shoulder and see a small boy in overalls and a Pokemon shirt, staring intently at me. I try to give him a smile but his pale watchful eyes stare right through me. He looks to be about seven, young enough to be taught that staring is rude.

A girl with dark-brown hair and cream-colored clothing grabs him by the shoulders. Her youthful face tilts up to look at me, brown eyes unfamiliar from anyone in my small town. New people? That rarely happens, but she looks about my age, maybe her parents divorced like mine and she moved in with one of them.

I bite my lip and turn back around, no longer able to focus on the books in front of me. I stare at the different layers of my hair. After a while, I peek over my shoulder again. They're gone. I sigh and gather the books I want. When I stand up, I notice the brown-haired girl talking intently with a tall, tan boy with shaggy black hair and a name tag stating that he works here. They both look over at me and the girl narrows her eyes before walking away. I almost discard my books on a cart but the boy walks up to me.

"I'll take those." he says, taking the rejected books from my arms.

"Oh, thanks." I say, reading his name tag which says in carefully written handwriting: "My name is Cole- I'm here to help". "Are you new here?" I can't help but ask.

He nods. "Yes, just moved here two days ago. I'm starting school tomorrow at Bay High School, I'm a junior."

"Oh yeah, me too." I say. He avoids eye contact with me as he shelves the books. "So which house did you move into?"

"It's tucked in the forest, you wouldn't know."

"I probably would." I correct him. "I walk in the forest all the time."

"Well it's a log cabin, right next to a clearing. There isn't even a driveway for it."

I blink. I don't know what he's talking about. "Oh, I guess I've never traveled there before."

"Yeah it's pretty deep in the forest, it's a ten minute walk to where our car is parked."

I nod. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow I guess. If you have any questions or anything, you can talk to me or my friend Ren. She's hard to miss, she has bright red hair. "

He looks at me for the first time, his shaggy black hair out of his face, revealing bright yellow eyes with gold rimming the iris and orange around the pupil. "Thanks, I'll remember that... I don't know your name though."

"Oh, it's Cass." I try on a smile but lately it's been hard to do. I don't know why, I should be happy since it's freezing here, but I just haven't really been all that social. He nods and returns to work. I check out my books and recieve another phone call from Ren.

"Hey." she demands as soon as I pick up the phone. "Meet me at Iconic. I need to buy a winter formal dress and so do you." She hangs up before I can even protest.

**Cole:**

Jezebel told me about her. She noticed her walking through the woods, staring up at the stars with a bulky camera at hand. She seemed to know exactly where she was by the texture of the bark on the tall, naked trees crowding in around her.

She was in the library today. Gander almost scared her off, the daggers he was staring into her. He doesn't like the thought of possible new people; he wants us to stay exactly how we are. We're his only family, besides Jesebel. She's so protective of him, partly because he's her son, but mostly because he's half of Tom. She thinks we don't notice how she stares at the picture of him on the refigerator with his torn and sunbleached hat. She wishes things had gone differently. I wish things had gone differently. Not just with Tom, but also with me.


End file.
